23 November 2010

Dear Pasta Zanmai, hello. I am sure you are not aware of my existence. I however have been introduced to you by rather inconsiderate friends (which I am grateful to). These are the people responsible for my 4am cravings for you.

All of a sudden I am dreading the thought that one day I will return to my hometown where you do not exist and will never meet you again, because you see, all we have is this sorry shop who passes sushi on conveyor belts and claim themselves the ‘King’ of it. *grins*

You see, dear Pasta Zanmai, I have had a phobia for Japanese food ever since my encounter with Dengue. It was not the Dengue; it was the generous portion of unagi i fed myself with right before Dengue struck me. For the entire day, I had tasted unagi in my mouth, burped unagi and vomited unagi. I refused to touch it with a ten-foot pole ever since. I distanced myself from Japanese food, for almost two years, that is, until I met YOU.

Although I am still rather reluctant to touch anything fishy, ie: Raw salmon, Salmon, Unagi (gasp! runs opposite direction), I consider it a gigantic step to have actually stepped into an outlet selling Japanese food, and later eating Japanese food, despite the slight hint of fish smell in there, and then craving for it at 4am in the morning. What charm have cast on me?

You relieved me off my sesame ice cream curiosity and you filled that void in me that was longing for green tea. I still remember the crunch of that pizza with oysters and the aroma of simple curry with rice. Those mini sets were incredibly awesome. And it was after my encounter with some other Japanese food outlet that rhymes with sakae, I discovered my love for you that has in fact always been there but never discovered.

So dearest Pasta Zanmai, could I have touched your heart enough for you to open up an outlet in Kuching by the time I return? I am sure there would be many Jepun-neesy people there who would contribute to a profit, because all we have there is the husband of the queen sushi and a few tiny, independent shops. I am sure Jepun-neesy people would love you, because you have managed to make even me, a not very Japanese-culture-inspired person love you. Thank you very much.

21 November 2010

The Wall Street Event will be taking place tomorrow. The team spent almost 5 hours prepping the Multipurpose Hall, stacking, arranging, clearing and cleaning. Today was tiring, but I cannot help feeling somehow touched by the amount of cooperation that every member present contributed. Also, through the tables crashing down on and possibly bruising my legs (yay i have an excuse to wear pantyhose) and the disturbing sound of chairs as they were dragged through the hall, I noticed that hey, Cyberjaya Accounting Club does have a number of awesome gentlemen around. There is hope for mankind!

I personally feel that my contribution to the event is minor. Hardly any, to be exact. Aside from the few pointless speeches. This event has however taught me lots more. It made me see how important it is to have a motivated, understanding leader who tries his best to take everybody’s welfare into consideration. It is things like these who touch people’s hearts and make them want to work harder. It taught me that as a team, we ought to have everyone’s backs and that it’s ALWAYS about the solution, not the problem. It taught me the importance of leaders looking out for the people under them, rather than turn them in. Last but not least, I got a scary glimpse of the corporate world.

Well, there’s still tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after to continue learning and seeing and experiencing. Hopefully i can cope, as midterms are coming in, and so are assignments. I really do not want another experience with the kind of results that previously hit me. It was a hard blow. The past few days of studying, well, TRYING to study Company Law has been excruciating. It seems i had just found the perfect antidote for insomnia – Corporate Law!

However, today, something made my day. Let me put it this way.

Mood swings and emoness: weight gain (because i slept all the time and skipped running sessions)

A forwarded joke from my father, whom I feel so much closer to lately: PRICELESS.

*smiles from the inside*

This was a forwarded mail from mom to the both of us explaining the meaning of “Alfresco”. She likes forwarding mails.

> Olive> Where shall we eat after the show ?>> Sean> What about that restaurant down by the river ?>> Olive> Do you mean the one with peacocks running around the garden ?>> Sean> That's the one. It's very traditional and I just love the atmosphere.>> Olive> And it's such a warm and pleasant evening that we'll be able to dine alfresco> on the riverside terrace.>> Sean> Yes, that would be lovely. And with the sky so clear we'll be dining by> moonlight. How romantic !

Explanation :> Alfresco - An alfresco activity, especially a meal, is one that takes place> in the open air.

And THIS, is what dad replied:

At the open Kuching Open-Air market (KongSiBoi) we have rats (no peacock) The birds are all hanging upside down.(waiting to be cooked) Assorted fishes (shells and sotong too) all swimming in ice.(cold waterfish?) Plants standing in rows (waiting to be cooked too) And there is also a river flowing near by. Sometimes the moon also shines but most of the time we have street lights. Now I know why Lynda liked to go there.> > What do they called it? Alfresco.. Maybe can start a Alfred Store to provide alfresco at KongSiBoi.

18 November 2010

The day has been super non-productive. Nothing on the to-do list has been crossed out. Clothes that were supposed to be folded nicely and put back into the wardrobe are still strewn over the bed. No research that is supposed to be done has been done. And no amount revision that was to be done has been done.

But today, I did learn one thing; In life we are constantly telling ourselves to do good. To be good human beings, to treat others the way we would like to be treated, to not harm or hurt unnecessarily.

However, sometimes, the one thing needed to screw everything up is a bad memory. A bad memory leads to wrong decisions and wrong decisions lead to agony, on all sides.

Sometimes being mean is unavoidable, and the fact that it was not intentional does not make the damage any less. People always revert to the saying, “it’s the thought that counts,” but really, in this situation I think thoughts don’t matter at all.

Today, was unproductive in terms of my to-do list. However, it has thought me that when either roads lead to damage, it’s okay to bang your head on the wall over what you have done, and later count on ethics to path your way. It has also taught me to toughen up in order to do what is less wrong.“I am sorry” is not protocol. It is the child of conscience and the heart.

I am starting believe that it is not them, it is me. problems like these are forever creeping up on me because I let them. Attitude needs to change, memory needs to improve.

16 November 2010

I was going to write about the awesome friends I have here, but lets not declare anything, because heck, I still want to keep these friends and it is taboo to declare anything before anything because fate likes to play “NAH! In your face!” with people and prove otherwise, and cause you to ‘bin chee chee’ and swallow every word you have just spat out.

SO, we shall fast forward to a birthday celebration. Suiee’s sister celebrated her 19th birthday two nights ago. I’ve never seen the birthday girl so feminine – she was sweet as ever in a dress, and her boy reminds me of the guy who acted beside my Jung Ji Hoon in A Love To Kill. =P

I hope she has all the fun being 19 =)

That day I pried myself out of my nest and decided to tag along and park my bottom comfortably into Suiee’s car for the celebrating. Beforehand, Suiee made the cake while i supervised as i witnessed sisterly love happening before my eyes. She beat the eggs, and mixed the chocolate, and arranged marshmallows and cracked brains together with Zihan over where to take the birthday girl. Best of all, she did all the dishes =P

We ended up in Sakae Sushi, and ate Sushi King-like food, which was actually a rather refreshing and eye opening experience, and later Gasoline at the Ampang look out point. It was then then I realised my love for Pasta Zanmai, thanks to Zihan, in terms of Japanese Food, and my frustration and discontentment over Gasoline Cafe (am i able to write about this? is someone going to sue me? aku takut).

Somewhere along the way too, KY’s friends car kind of uhm, broke down? They found the problem to be with the erm…”minyak pelincir”. I just cant seem to generate its English name now. We waited by the roadside for all the required ‘procedures’ in order to get the car runing again. I however feel that it is experiences like these that make events so much more special. Something unexpected, but yet there you are, with your whole bunch of friends by you. Plus now, I can proudly declare that i know what minyak pelincir is used for, and where to actually put it in, and that its original colour is not black despite its name in chinese.

Towards to end of this post, I realise, WHOA, I am actually writing about an outing, instead of quirky things that are coming from the corners of my bored brain =)

13 November 2010

Sometimes the sixth sense is a scary thing. It is scariest when it has a tendency to be accurate. I am not too sure which is worse, to be friends with someone who has good sixth sense and risk being all figured out, or to have the spot on sixth sense yourself.

Females tend to be better at things like these, they say. I have been told by a few that mine is pretty sharp. So what happens when someone you’ve known your whole life to be someone suddenly becomes someone you do not really know and did not expect would exist although your sixth sense warned you of the possibility of it happening, but you chose to shrug of the warning, because you thought your sixth sense was just well, something screwing with you mind.

What happens when you start to find that the things you feel are becoming more and more accurate, but there is a chip somewhere in a block of something and it cannot be put back again. What if the chip HAS already been put back but the sixth sense warning sirens are ringing ever so loudly and flashing red lights, again, and telling you to wake up?

The dilemma of those blessed with this gift, is whether to believe it, because it had been right so many times, or whether to shrug it off again and defend the brain from the insanity threatening to consume it by not thinking so much, yet risk falling flat on the face all over again from naivety.